


HP ~ The Flower, The Owl, The castle

by Sapphire_and_Emeralds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossdressing, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Genderfluid, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Out of Character Harry Potter, Queerplatonic Relationships, Secret Identity, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_and_Emeralds/pseuds/Sapphire_and_Emeralds
Summary: "Please." They begged under their breath, blood leisurely sliding down their cheek. "I really, really can't deal with any more XXXXX killers."In a world were Lily was just a little bit more 'Mad-Eye', the world slowly starts to deviate. Azalea Blackwood, once known as Harry Potter, looked just like their mother, except for James's stubborn hair, somehow, they still in the heart of the chaos. Genderfluid MC!
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Susan Bones & Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Friendship, castles and Trolls

**A/N: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines.**  
**BTW, I have a fanfiction.net account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.**  
**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 ~ Friendship, castles and Trolls**

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“Potter, Harry!”

Whispers spread throughout the hall, waves of head's turning to stare at the small remaining group of children in hopes of spotting the boy in question.

“Potter, did she say-?”

“-he’s going to be in-“

“-Harry Potter is-?”

Azalea turned their head towards the small crowd of children still standing at the centre of the hall. Tilting their head thoughtfully, Azalea listened to the growing outcry as theories were formed, each more outlandish and strange than it's predecessor.

They leaned their head into their hands, a slight extra tilt to not pull any attention as the Deputy Headmistress talked with the Headmaster. All the while the 'Harry Potter' opinion growing in hilarity, awkward shifts, raised questions, worried tones...

Absently pulling their right sleeve, their bit their lip as a basic overview of the Boy-Who-Lived was noted.

Harry Potter was just like his father, but with his mother's eyes.

As so, their blue eyes, brown-haired, androgynous-looking kid would never be linked.

Needless to say, the feast became rather memorable.

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"I'm Azalea Blackwood, a pleasure to make you acquaintances." They greeted with a polite nod.

They'd made it overly formal on purpose. Truthfully, the only person they could see themselves getting along with was Longbottom. Not that they had anything against the other members of their dorm. It was more along the lines that they-

"Azalea?" Weasly snorted with amusement.

"Yes?"

"Isn't that, you know, a girls name?"

Yeah.

Not.

"Is it?" They laced the question with fake innocence.

See, picking on people only (or at least usually) worked if you got a reaction from it. And with exhausted, wide-eyed eleven-year-olds, it was more than enough to change the subject towards something more interesting, namely Quidditch.

Not that they cared what other people thought or said about them.

They hadn't since they left the Durselys.

Thicked skin, and all that.

Azalea was a pretty name, and yes, it hinted to who they'd once been, but it was also a link to their mother's family tradition. Besides, it's not that they'd get into to much trouble even if someone did figure it out.

Okay, yes. There'd be some public criticism, maybe even some level of outcry, but it wasn't like they had any business knowing when someone changed their names, they wouldn't see it like that since it was their precious 'Boy-Who-Lived' but that was hardly Azaleas problem.

If anything, they were a little bit disappointed as to how easy it'd been to 'infiltrate' the safest place in Britan. They idly contemplated that thought as they opened the window, casting a temperature charm and placing Hedwig's stand next to their bed.

Maybe it’s because Hogwarts is a school? It would make sense. It was the student's Hogwarts was protecting, hundred of people of the countless form of diversity that was constantly changing. Usually, that diversity would be what a ward was protecting it from, which made it more of an 'open ward', serving more of as indestructible umbrella rather than a sphere.

Not that they knew much about ward's to start with. Maybe it could be something to look up in the future?

But that would be a thought for later. Closing the bed's curtains, they hummed softly as they pulled out a notebook alongside some few books, spreading them through the bed's covers.

They wouldn't need to wake up until six, meaning they had just under nine hours to set up some bais charms and wards that would keep people out of their 'safe zone'.

Rolling up their sleeves, Azalea smiled excitedly as they started waving their mother's wand in gentle motions.

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Silencing charm. Azalea thought irritatedly as they walked towards the charms classroom. They needed to find a silencing charm or sleep would be straight out of the window. The Gryffindor tower window, all the way down into the lake where it would never be found.

They'd spent all of the breakfast reading in hopes of finding a reference book, if not the spell itself. Unfortunately, it seemed they might need to resort to drastic means if they didn't find...

Azalea blinked, smiling faintly as they returned the wave.

"How's Huffulpuf?" They asked in honest curiosity once Susan cached up to them, matching their pace as they walked through the hall.

"It's... surprisingly familiar, I think?" She admitted somewhat thoughtfully. "I already know some of the people I'm sharing with, so maybe it's that." Susan smiled sheepishly.

Out of all the people Azalea had met at Hogwarts so far, Susan Bones was by far the nicest. Or the one they liked the most, practically radiating silent happiness whenever they got close enough.

It was nice.

Even if she did stand some few inches taller than them.

Not that they'd met that many people, but Susan was the kind of friend they'd always dreamed of having back when they'd lived in the cupboard. And sure, it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since they met her, but they liked to think they were a fairly good judge of character.

"How's Gryffindor?"

"It's... alright, I suppose." They were struggled to find something positive to say. "Longbottom seems nice. The rest of them are, well... noisy."

"I've met him some few times. At some of the ministry parties that my mum needed to attend. I don't think we've talked past greetings thought."

"Are they... fun?" Because they sounded like a nightmare. Like one of Mrs Dursleys tea party's where they talked behind people back's and spread rumours even if they knew they weren't true.

But then, they had been told that they had a pretty twisted idea of how society worked. Which wasn't true at all. It wasn't. Just because they were cynical and maybe a little extreme in looking for someone's flaws didn't mean that that they didn't understand how the world worked.

It wasn't their fault it wasn't a pretty truth.

"What? The parties?" Susan snorted, shaking her head in amusement. "Morgan, no. Definitely not. I only attend the bare minimum because mum has to go. Everything else is happily skipped."

Azalea nodded in sympathy. Going to a ministry party, where you would be required to talk to people, to socialise with people, when you could barely stand small groups sounded... yeah... no.

Their conversation and Azaleas own pondering of socialising came to an end as they entered the charms classroom. Taking a seat next to the window, they watched as the classroom slowly filled itself with students in the last remaining minutes, the Professor himself walking in a minute before the bell rang.

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Azalea couldn't quite remember when they started loving magic. Even when they'd apparated at the top of the rooftop all those years ago, they'd been aware of... of something being there that no one else could quite see. They’d never really know, but they were fairly certain it was because magic was the first things that had been theirs. And what kid didn't love the first toy they had? From there, it'd been a spiral of learning experiences that had eventually lead them to today.

Of course, up to this point, all those questions had been answered through self-research. Sure, they'd had a near unlimited resource to take from, but when you started with zero magical knowledge, and that included that the magical world was a thing, it might as well been written in Sumerian.

Not for the first time, Azalea was grateful that their mother had been seemingly obsessed with converting her diary's into possible contingency instructions.

The fact that their mother had so thoroughly planned for what happened after her death was mildly terrifying, not to mention raised some questions in themselves.

Either way, for all the complete and utter boredom they would without a doubt go through the practical side of magic, Azalea had still decided to attend Hogwarts for the sheer well of knowledge the teachers would provide.

And they were going to milk it for all it's worth. Asking questions to the point the teachers kicked them out. Or praised them, since this was a school and all.

"Mr Blackwood?"

Such as now.

"I'm sorry Professor, but what did you mean with growth?" Azalea quickly amended the question at the Professor raised his eyebrow. "I'm aware that one individual's magic will grow with age, but the way you phrased it seemed to imply that it was a factor rather than the sole cause.

See, the frustrating thing about magic, or rather the magical world, was that there wasn't a single, only, truth. It was a mixture of so many beliefs, all hidden under the British Government's brand of what was safe and what wasn't. One could claim something without ever touching a wand and someone, somewhere, would say it was the truth.

Yes, mum's diaries had helped, they'd helped a lot. Unfortunately, they were not the Akashic records, which was the main reason they where going to school to start with.

"Indeed." Flitwick stairs at him thoughtfully, as does the rest of the class before he suddenly jumped up onto his table and smiles. "Well, I wasn't planning on starting my classes with magical theories, however, as a teacher, I can hardly allow a question to go unanswered."

"To be clear, while there is documented evidence, magic, is a mystery to us.” He hummed, gently lifting his wand as a ball of light – Lumos – appeared at its tip. “To start with, every spell requires a different amount of magic for every person depending on that person.” With a quick flicker, the spell disappears.

“To answer your question, every person’s magic is fundamentally different, it grows differently, and there are different reason for every different scenario. Location, presence, practice… That is on our overall magic, not spell casting.” He smiled, eyes returning to Azalea as he nodded. “I could go on for days with this explanation, but this is a charm's lesson, so I hope that sufficed as an answer, Mr Blackwood.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Azalea smiled, listening to the Professor resume his lesson with interest as he started making notes.

And that was the foremost reasons why Azalea had chosen to go to Hogwarts. Some things simply couldn't be found in books.

The remainder of the hour past quickly, coming to an end with the Charms Professor giving their first set of Homework as the bell echoed throughout the school's halls.

"Mr Blackwood, if you could stay for a minute?" The diminutive Profesor called from his desk. "Nothing to worry about, I'll admit it's simple curiosity." He assured between chuckles when he saw Susan sending him a concerned look.

"Profesor?" He asked wearily as Susan closed the door behind her.

"Please ta a seat, Mr Blackwood.” Azalea nodded hesitantly.

"I was rather impressed by your line of questioning.” The Professor complimented as he took a seat of his own, eyes never quite leaving him as he flickered his wand in a sharp movement.

The Muffliato Charm. Otherwise known as the privacy charm.

That... that wasn't good.

"It's been quite some few years since a student asked a why question rather than listening quietly."

"Ah, thank you?"

Now, when was the other shoe going to drop?

Flitwick chuckled softly, a fond smile forming on his lips.

"But then, I suppose it is to no surprise, after all, your mother was the last person to ask such line of question."

"I-"

Azalea stared at the diminutive man with wide eyes. Said man met their gaze with far too much amusement.

"While you disguise is commendable in its subtleness, using that particular wand, even if partially covered, on front of its predecessor's charm master, might not have been the best of ideas."

Well...

He wasn't wrong.

They'd been rather satisfied when they wrapped the willow made hilt with black, braided silk. In retrospect, it might have been a little bit arrogant on their part, but they'd been confident with the hundreds of wands that past through the school year it would go unnoticed.

"Oh" Azalea could feel their cheeks burn. They'd known, of course. Their mother had mention Profesor Flitwick repeatedly throughout her diary's, particularly in the last ones, when speaking about her mastery's. Their whole face brightened when the mat let out another amused chuckle. "Er-, what are you planning to do with that... information?" Azalea was coming to the dawning realisation that they may have been greatly unprepared for this.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, looking generally curios for something in their expression. "And what do you think I should do?"

He was fishing for something.

Rather obvious, in retrospect, the head of Ravenclaw enjoying his mind games.

See, the thing about Profesor Flitwick was that, out of all the teachers, he was the one Azalea knew the most from their second-hand information. However, realistically, this was the first time he talked to him outside of a classroom setting.

Wich turned them full circle back to the starting question.

Did they trust him enough to say anything of significance?

...

"...Ideally, if our positions were reversed, I'd try to get as much information as possible before making any decisions." They tilted their head thoughtfully when the Profesor showed no reaction. Well, they hadn't expected to work anyway. Letting out a sharp blow of air as their bangs moved out of their eyes. "I suppose it comes down to your conscious. On one hand, I'm aware of the... noise my change of name has made. On the other, I wouldn't have taken that level of actions if I hadn't felt threatened in the first place.

Yes, they were throwing every thought that sounded remotely logical. Thing is, while they had considered the possibility of getting caught, it would have been closer to Christmas, not on the first day.

"I see." The Profesor nodded, leaning back on his chair as he smiled. "Well, I suppose no harm was done, and in my age, I'm most likely seeing things that aren't there. One last question, out of curiosity, why Hogwarts?"

Wait. What? Just like that?

"When they look for someone in hiding, they not going to start in plain... sight?" They trailed off, tone shifting to a questioning one when the Profesor let out a soft laugh.

"While I applaud your logic, you'll find that the wizarding world rarely displays such level of complex thought. The only reason it has worked is due to the public not being able to phantom the thought of searching for a different name."

Ah, well...

"I'm not during particularly well, am I?" Heat returned to their face in embarrassment as they grimaced.

So much for 'infiltrating was easy'.

"On the contrary, I'm rather impressed." The Professor admitted as he waved his wand. "Now, you'll have just enough time to make it to launch if you leave now. Oh, and Mr Blackwood?" He called once Azalea reached the door. "If you need anything, I'm just a classroom away."

And even if they did want to scream into their pillow, Azalea smiled.

"Thank you, Professor."

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Severus felt no need to restrain in their scowling.

After all, such expression was hardly a characteristic that laid out of place. Especially when the student's rushed out of his way, seemingly believing that if they didn't meet his eyes, he wouldn't see them.

Closing the door to his chamber's, he allowed himself the luxury of rubbing his templates.

It had barely been noticeable at first. A voice whispering at the edge of his conscious, enough for him to know something didn't quite fit, but too far to know what. Neither the feast nor the following day's had helped. A small pressure growing, raising his paranoia when he couldn't even begin to phantom what was causing it.

A slow build-up, at least for him, almost like an echo whenever he was close enough. Ironic, if not so infuriating, that it took such a minor, random detail to link the puzzle together.

A single moment, when he barked to the first years to stop brewing, one of his student's had undone their ponytail, hair fall barely past their chin. And for all the normally of the action, all the other student's might as well not existed. His focus entirely on the student that started contemplatively into their finished potion.

Lily.

The mannerism, the hand movements whenever they spoke, the simple fact that they stopped in silent contemplation before taking action.

He'd only ever seen that in one other Gryfindor.

Lily.

He'd looked, well and honestly studied the student's face, noticing a faint product that he wouldn't have noticed if not searching, the not entirely natural colour of either eye's or hair.

He'd stormed out before he... well, he wasn't sure what he'd do, but before he did something.

It was all Lily.

He wasn't sure how to react that anything that could be linked to Lily. And if Blackwoods was Lily's then...

No. No, he wouldn't even consider it. The prospect alone gave him nightmares.

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"Thank you." Azalea took the offered cup from Hagrid's hand with a smile.

Huh. They didn't recognise it.

And as someone that had spent half their life memorising different tea flavours for Mrs Dursleys tea party's, that was saying a lot.

"Any reason you're out so late?" Hagrid took a seat, placing a tray of cakes on the table. "Just returned from the last patrol myself."

"I was exploring." Azalea smiled somewhat sheepishly. "It's a magical castle. How anyone can sleep instead of exploring Hogwarts is beyond me." A faint blush crept onto their cheeks. "I... found a passage that left me outside the tower, but it ended up being a one way only..."

"Wich is why you knocked on my door." Hagrid nodded, an amused smile forming on his features.

Azalea chose to caress Hedwig's feathers rather than meet his gaze. The silly bird seemed to have no problem with laughing at their expense. Rude.

"Thank you, really, I wasn't looking forward to sleeping outside."

Which, granted, they could have probably come up with something. Warming charms, elevating some fo the ground into a makeshift tent...

Not even one week in and they were already getting in (albeit, minor) trouble. All because they hadn't been able to sleep.

Which had lead to them staring at the castles magic, which in itself had made them rather curious as to all the differences they could feel through the castle.

From there, it'd been an exploration of the empty common room, to exploring the halls of the castle, to finding three secret halls that served as shortcuts, only to find a portrait where the magic seemed to focus in a square-like shape.

Of course, they'd investigated, opening the portrait-like door to find a slide without end in sight where the magic focused...

Not that they could say any of that.

The thing about being able to feel magic was that, in almost every case, it was achieved through rituals which were, in most of Europe at least, illegal.

Things got messy with that technicality since it was nearly unheard of but not quite impossible for someone to be born with the said ability. That meant that the only way to get yourself arrested was by being caught doing the ritual. So it was kind of at the point where everyone nodded politely when you said you could feel the surrounding magic even though they knew you had broken the law.

Of course, Azalea was no exception, which was why they wouldn't be announcing the ability to start with.

...Suddenly, getting sorted into Gryffindor made so much sense.

But honestly! It was a magical castle!

'Bedtime, of you trot!' was not something Azaleas would do. Sure, they hadn't done anything the first night, but that was because they'd been stressing out the whole day when attending as Blackwood. The train ride had been equally exhausting even if they were happy that they met Susan.

But it'd been a whole week! And not one student seemed all that interested in exploring a magical castle even when they'd all admired said castle when it first came into sight on the lake.

People were just plain weird.

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Blaise was bored.

He’d been aware, to a certain degree, that his time at Hogwarts would be… tedious at best.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated just how dull Hogwarts would be.

While (most of) the teachers were masters of their craft, they were still teaching eleven-year-olds. And instead of classes where they were taught how to manipulate weather, create golems, or enchant objects, they were taught how to play with feathers and needles.

Not for the first time, he wondered why his mother had sent him to Hogwarts. Her lessons where much more interesting and useful then… this…

“Mr Weasly, shouting at the top of your lungs will hardly make a difference. To remove the whiskers requires a particular focus when casting." Moving her wand in a well-practised motion, McGonogalled transfigured the mouse into its original shape. "Watch as I-“

Blaise blinked, turning towards one of the back rows of desks. Eye's landing on an elaborated designed snuffbox. Not that surprising, since Blackwood had quickly established themselves as one of the best of his generation.

But if he'd done what Blasie thought he'd done, and he might have been reading to much into it, then...

There might be something interesting after all.

So, of course, he ended up spending weeks in an attempt to catch Blackwood alone. Mainly because he either was attached to Bones hip or disappeared to Myrddin knows where.

Turns out that he was exploring the castle.

Which only picked Blaise's interest more, since most students were completely blind to the actual level of beauty Hogwarts was. So far, he thought he'd been the only one to truly understand the castle was, but...

The way they head moved, slowly towards their shoulder as they thoughtfully started at the wall. Only to tilt they head in confusion after some few seconds.

Blaise had also felt it, the pulsing magic of the castle, faint enough to be a soothing sound, loud enough to be heard.

And someone apart from him could hear Hogwarts.

“You know-“ He started, lips forming a smirk when Blackwood jumped, head snapping towards them slightly wide-eyed. ”-that’s a very interesting ability you have there.”

“…I’ve been told sleepwalking is rather rare.” Blackwood finally stated with a sagely nod.

Ah…well…

Definitely some degree of muggle influence, purebloods didn’t react with complete bluntness.

Apart from Greengrass. But she didn't care about anyone that wasn't Davis.

He was fairly certain she wouldn't bat an eyelash if someone was murdered on front of her.

“Oh? You seemed to be following interesting patterns then.”

Letting out a huff, Blackwood crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

"I could say the same to you. I'm not the only one outside of curfew."

Blaise lips formed into a grin. It only grew when Azalea eyed him warily.

"So, never thought I'd see the day where a Gryfidnor would be interested in rituals."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you talking about." Blackwood instantly drawled. "I would, however, want to point out that Gryfidnors are notorious for breaking rules.

Point.

He grinned none the less.

"So, let's talk!"

He raises a questioning eyebrow. Staring at him in contemplation.

"Pardon me?"

"Well, you-" He pointed at Blackwood. "-and I-" He pointed at himself. "-fundamentally see the world differently. Ergo, when are we going to compare notes, experiment." He shrugged, hiding the slight giddiness he was feeling right now. "Or gossip, if you prefer that."

He couldn't help it. When he started at Blaise so completely lost, Blaise laughed.

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“It’s no wonder no one can stand her!” Weasly spat, scowling darkly as he complained to his friends. “She’s a bloody nightmare!”

At the corner of their sight, they noticed Granger running through the hall, seemingly in tears as she turned at the corner.

Azalea bit their lip, sending a glare to the insensitive prat. They couldn't say anything, and that was the worst part.

The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything. Pretty words, but it was harder to apply in real life, Albert.

And at the end, they did nothing, already depressed from the date's significance as the walked towards the next lesson.

Only to note that she missed the class. And she never skived class. No appearance through the afternoon, or even when the student's started heading towards the Great Hall to the feast.

Azalea sighed tiredly. Before they found out how their parent's had died they hadn't minded the celebration. It was usually the only day they got anything that was sweet for themselves. Halloween, or All-hallows, or, if you wanted to be technical, Samhain, was a bittersweet moment for them now.

Fortunately, the only meals that had required attendance were the first and last feast, alongside the first day's breakfast. Truthfully, they would have skived either way, but this at least gave them an excuse to avoid everyone. Maybe looking for a secret door that only opened today.

Not that they had anywhere in mind. The library would probably be closed, and heading outside when it'd been raining irregularly didn't seem all that appealing.

Maybe one of the towers? They knew the astronomy tower had some detection wards, so maybe one of the smaller towers would be a nice place to just... what? Ponder? Brood? Think about what they didn't have?

"Azalea!" They blinked, head snapping towards Susan in faint shock as she grabbed his arm and started pulling.

"Wha-? Susan?"

"Troll!" Azalea blinked again, unsure as to what to make of the strange wording Susan was making. "In the castle. There's a troll in the castle! And you mention that you'd be exploring, which meant you probably didn't know, so I started running trying to find you!" She took a hasty breath, pulling them towards what Azalea knew was the Huffelpuffs common room. "Professor Quireel found in the middle of the feast.

"What are the teachers doing?"

"They went to stop it, I think. They only told us to follow the perfect to the common room while they went to the dungeons." She continued her explanation as they now run through the halls, still holding the others hand in an attempt of comfort.

"W-what? The dung-?"

"The unused one." She hastily amended with an understanding glance.

Oh. That was... Yeah. That was good.

The dungeon where more or less divided into two separate sections that were only joined them small passageways. And while it was a (slightly dark but) beautiful sight, their actual structure was slightly reminiscent to that of a catacomb. To get the other dungeon, the troll would have to go through the large stairs, which was where Azalea assumed the teachers were going to ambush the troll. Since the best advantage against their kind was the height and numbers.

The thought came to a crashing halt when a high pitched, terrified scream filled the hall.

Azalea's eye's meet Susan, who's where filled with just as much dread as they felt.

"Granger," Susan whispered horrified.

Things tend to become blurry when adrenaline and panic are combined. However, Azaleas first thought wasn't the smell.

No, it was the magic.

Unlike the smell, the magic wasn't particularly foul. A bit like a flowing river mixed with mud, only to find the fresh ruffling of leaves at the side.

Azalea blinked, realizing they just stopped in front of the troll.

Chaos promptly erupted, as Granger screamed something over the growl, Susan's eyes widened as she reached for her pocket. Azaleas own wand pulled out a moment before the club was raised.

Twisting their body, Azalea pulled Susan with them as the splinters from the floor flew in all directions, scrapping the three of them with cuts as their shielded their faces.

Noting it's momentarily stupored dazed, Azalea raised their wand, blasting curse already on the tip of their tongue, knocking it back into the wall with a resounding crash.

The curse was for not, the troll shook its head, sending out a growl as it glared at them. Raising to its feat, it grabbed a large part of the already damaged wall, lifting the piece of a size of a car as it- oh that wasn't goo-

Raising their wand Azalea pulled both Granger and Susan behind them as their pored as much magic as they could into the willow wand.

A loud crash followed, shattering the shield as they were thrown through the remnants of the bathroom.

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Hermione grimaced, pulling herself from the debris of the former stalls she was buried under. The large scale destruction of the bathroom had built a mist-like effect made of dust, she wasn't quite sure if there was an actual word, but she was rather grateful that it reached sufficient height to hide her body when lying on the floor.

She could just barely make out the sound of Susan's voice, pulling the troll's attention to herself as she cast an orange coloured spell, hitting it on its skull without any seeming effects.

The spell was ineffective, or at least she thought it was. She was coming to the drawing realisation that there were people that held a greater amount of magical knowledge than she did.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Susan seemed to spere it no mind, making a violent downward motion with her wand, the ceilings candelabrum lashing onto the troll as the burning candles hurled onto its body.

While it's snarl seemed to indicate damage, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if that might have been a mistake as the troll entered an infuriating state of lashing its club at everything within its reach.

"Hermione?" The whisper nearly made her scream, head snapping toward the voice behind her.

Azalea... wasn't looking good. There was a worrying amount of trailing blood falling down his head, forcing him to close an eye as it started to dry.

"Y-Yes?" She flinched, realising that she must have broken something somewhere if the sudden welling of pain was any indication.

"Can you run?" He asked hopefully, gaze darting towards the large figure of the troll.

Would it hear them? She hadn't read anything on troll having sharper senses than humans, but then, she hadn't read anything that said otherwise either. That was a little bit infuriating.

"I think I broke my leg." She whispered back. Or maybe it was an incomplete fracture? She couldn't tell. Truthfully, she felt it wasn't particularly important even if she did want to see how magical medicine was applied. "It might be-"

A loud thud shattering sound echoed through the hall. Both froze as they realised the dust started to settle.

"I-It's a mounting troll. They r-resistant to magic but they should be susceptible if sufficient force is applied. "Its anatomy is comparable to that of humans... a blow to the skull might knock it out?"

Azalea nodded shakily, wand pointing to one of the larger boulders, his expression adorned a frown as his wand slowly raised in an ascending movement.

"I think I might have a concussion." Hermione tensed, eyes scanning his skull for any symptoms she could remember.

Panic welling inside her as she caught him from falling.

"Where's Susan?" He whispered painfully.

"Er-" She looked up, eyes darting to where Susan was now panting heavily as she continuously cast a viscous-like substance that served to slow it down.

"She's still fighting the troll. Er-" Her gaze momentarily darting towards the levitated bolder."How much control have you got on that?"

"Can keep it floating indifferently?" He was slurring. Not good, slurring was a symptom for concussions. "Use -clemency to keep it up. Get the troll under?

Under? Under wh- "The boulder?"

"Mm-hmm"

"The trolls between us we-" Hermione stopped, a near-insane thought occurring to her. "You can keep it up?" He nodded tiredly, head leaning into her left shoulder.

"Hold hand, squeeze if I full asleep." He mumbled opening the not blood-covered eyelid.

"Eh? But you're wan-?" Oh, right. She hadn't noticed, but Azalea was left-handed. Huh, she could have sworn he wrote with his right hand. "Got it, on my signal."

She looked up, grimacing at the destroyed hall as she spotted Susan.

Said girl had seemingly given up on her previous idea, relying upon explosive like spells that barely seemed to halt the monster's pace.

Well then. Gryffindor courage, don't fail her now.

"SUSAN!" She shouted at the top of her voice. "Use Lumos on it and bring it towards us!"

If she was confused by Hermione's request she didn't show it, instantly casting the spell with more power than was strictly necessary.

"Rictusempra" She whispered under her breath repeatedly. Silver thin-lined crashing and dissolving on its skin.

That was fine. Susan's charm had forced the troll to turned away, and she'd read that trolls had very short memories, kind of like Lee Edwards, the idiot she'd shared most of her school years who didn't even understand the meaning of Homework but still thought he was better than her because he was 'cool' and all that...

Right. Troll survival first, bullies problems later.

"Azalea, any moment now." She froze, head snapping towards him. "Azalea?" Feeling the growing horror as her head darted between the troll and her unconscious classmate. "Come on. Wake up." She begged as she tried shaking him awake.

"Mm." Relief flooded inside her as the boulder fall, crashing into the trolls head with a resounding 'thud'.

For an incredibly long second, she could only stare wide-eyed as the troll lay on the ground unmoving, a puddle of blood gradually forming underneath both the troll and the debris.

She let out a shaky, somewhat hysterical laugh as she pulled Azalea into a hug. Not something she would usually be comfortable with but she was too exhausted to care.

She was still laughing when Susan reached them, pulling her into a hug, or maybe Susan pulled them into the hug. Her vision was going rather blurry itself with all the madness.

It wasn't until the echoing of quick footsteps started getting louder that they were brought out of their daze. Not a moment later, Profesor McGonagall entered the bathroom followed closely by some of the other Professors.

"What were you thinking!?" She hissed words laced in furry as she sent them a withering glare. "Why weren't you three with your house? Well? Explain yourself!"

Professor Flitwick diagnosed them with a worried expression, sighing with relief in what she assumed meant that there was nothing life-threatening to be found on them.

Not that she was paying attention.

Usually, she would understand that the Professor was somewhat hysterical at having found a rather terrifying sight. Usually, she would understand that, from the Professor's point of view, they probably seemed like problem children, and would calmly explain the situation to the detail.

Usually didn't include being attacked by mountain trolls.

"Explain ourselves?" She whispered in a hiss, feeling something, somewhere, somehow, snap. "EXPLAIN OURSERLFS?" She could feel her throat burn with justified rage. "How about you explain being attacked by a mountain troll in, what you assured my parents, was the safest location in Brittan!"

The teacher flinched back, whether it was because of the scream or the person screaming was rather beyond her current analytical abilities.

"The fact that you think that means that you didn't even know that I'd missed the Halloween feast, which is even more worrying seeing how long it took you to arrive, and that's if I was even the reason you did so to start-"

Hermione bit her lip, not because she was shouting at a teacher (which would later cause her to have an existential crisis), an act that was surprisingly therapeutic, but because Azalea let out a soft grown as he berried his head on her shoulder.

Right, concussion leads to a hypersensitive state towards noises. She hoped there was magical medicine that could help, she'd feel incredibly guilty if he missed class because of her.

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Azalea yawned tiredly, blinking as they wiped the sleep out of their eyes.

"Azalea?"

"Ye-Umph" They let out a squeak as Susan darted towards them, pulling into a tight hug.

"Oh, thank Morgan, Madam Pomfrey said you'd be okay, but you were so still and unresponsive."

What?

Madam Pomfrey? The school healer? Why would she-

Azalea straightened, the image of a snarling mountain troll vividly flashing in their mind.

"Is Granger okay?"

They vaguely remembered waking up after the shield shattered into smithereens, vision blurry as they... had they knocked the troll out?

"I am."

Blinking, Azalea turned towards Granger, who'd seemed to have been sleeping until this moment.

"Hey, how you feeling?" They asked tiredly.

"I've... been better..." She admitted somewhat hesitated. "I suppose I could have been worse. The applications of Skele-Gro are fascinating, but I think I'll pass from experiencing it again." Shifting uncomfortably, her eyes darted between Susan and themselves.

Oh, well. Azalea felt a little bit guilty that it happened to begin with. They should have stood up for her, fear of crowds or not. Hadn't that been what they hoped for back during the Dursleys?

They should probably apologise, and she seemed unsure of how to continue the conversation so-

"I'm sorry!" They both exclaimed in perfect synchronization.

What?

"Why are you apologising?" They questioned in another synchronized repetition.

That, at least, seemed to break the awkward atmosphere as Susan started laughing.

"I almost got you killed, why are you apologising?" She asked incredulously.

"Weasly was bullying you and I didn't say anything!"

"Honestly, Azalea, that's his fault, not yours."

A frown formed on their features, not particularly happy with that outcome.

"Then that means it's not your fault either." They conceded with a pointed look.

"...Fine." She nodded.

A compromise seemed like the best course to choose between two Gryffindor's.

"Anyways." Azalea mentally thanked Susan as she intervened their awkwardness. "I'm Susan, and that's Azalea. Nice to meet you, Granger.

"Just Hermione's fine." She smiled back.

They were glad they were at Hogwarts.

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**I'm alive!!!**

**So before I even start, I have two incredibly important questions**

**First! Beta testers! How do I get? It seems complicated but I always miss something somewhere! If anyone would explain that I'd really appreciate it!**

**Second! Ao3 writing! Am I missing something? It's incredibly difficult to use, and seems to get rid of all my large words, underlines, etc.**

**Now that that's out of the way. This has been in my head for... maybe five years, I kind of wrote a much more... blegh version about two years ago, hope this was better. Also, notice how Hermione uses first names while Azalea and Susan used surnames? I'll go into detail later, but I intend to do some major world building, so I'm hinting that now!**

**Also, Azalea doesn't quite realise it yet, but they will be genderfluid, it wont be the main focus of the story, but just thought I'd point it out now.**

**Thoughts? Did you enjoy it?  
Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao! **

**  
~ Sapphire and Emeralds**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines.**

**Recommended story:** Yule Ball Panic, by Philosophize.

Fem! Harry x Hermione that have to be careful in a (somewhat) homophobic society, one wrong step and their whole society will want their blood. Haven't read it in a while, but definitely one of the better ones in the HP Fanfic sea. It's continued in Power of Love and then Heart and Soul and completed, which is a rare treat. Also. Veela magic, which I took some inspiration on (as soon as we reach it).

**BTW, I have an Fanfic account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.**   
**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2 ~ Thoughts, C** **ontemplation & Stars**

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**Right, so: _Content Warning!_ Very brief mention of suicidal thoughts and implication of abuse.**

**Not sure how it got to this, because none of it was in the drafts...**

**Skip to the word drowsily if it's anything you don't wont to read.**

**There's also gender contemplation, but it's kind of will be part of the fic... so...**

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Hadrian sniffed, rubbing his eyes as he hugged his knees closer.

It'd started raining, not that long ago. A sudden downpour, another ridicule to today. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been out in the rain. Not a common occurrence either, but something he was somewhat accustomed to. It didn't, unfortunately, make it any easier. England wasn't as cold as it was _windy_ , and right now he could only shiver, leaning further into the tree in an attempt to shelter from the storm.

_Something on how it moved the immediate warm air around the skin._ He was too tired to ponder on it, or anything, while he was here shivering.

This _was_ a beautiful garden, though. Overgrown and abandoned, many of the plant's they couldn't even recognise, bushies had long since grown entirely out of control, some of the flowers seemed to be replaced with weeds, and the pond had long since been turned green by... er... not seaweed... algae?

_Maybe_. It was difficult to tell in the dark.

There'd still be faint traces of sunlight when hed... appeared? Teleported? He couldn't even begin to phantom whatever he'd done some few hours was called, or, for that matter, had a name to start with.

He'd just... _been_ here, suddenly, and he knew private drive well enough to know this wasn't there... and he'd just...

He'd cried. It... he didn't even _know_ when he'd last done that. _Had_ he ever done that? It just... it'd reached the point where it'd been too much to... it'd felt like a sudden crushing weight. It was always there and, usually, they could... well not _ignore_ it, but close enough to pretend it wasn't there.

He hadn't even _known_ what he'd felt at the beginning. Not regret, that was different. And not sadness, that'd been there long enough that he'd learn to ignore it years ago.

There'd been some prolonged number moments when his brain had just... stopped, completely nothing that resembled a thought.

He kind of knew what it was now. _Fear_. Or at least that's what he presumed it was. Not like the one Dudley and his 'friends' made him feel whenever they cornered him, but more of primordial fear of...

Well... not death.

They hadn't feared death since... ever?

Truthfully, death was something that was... okay, it wasn't always there, but often enough that it was a very familiar thought whenever it was... there.

A thought of comfort, possibly.

But...

Just there.

...maybe it started when he was five? Definitely six. It just...

He'd read an 'Inspector Calls', it'd been a book he'd found next to one of the neighbour's bins in a slightly worn state and picked it up. It wasn't rare for the Dursley's to just lock him up for the weekend, and while hiding them under the planks of his room required awkward positioning, finding books without stealing them was harder.

_It started innocent enough_ , he supposed.

It's not like he understood everything, but... he'd understood her, even if there's the question if they all the same girl, _Daisy Renton_ , or _Eva Smith_ , he'd _understood_ her.

And then he looked up, the second tallest shelf had bleach and...

...he hadn't.

It'd been a thought. For a moment. Just... there, completely entranced and so lost in the spiralling thoughts.

But there'd been something that wouldn't let them just, reach out his hand and...

...

He'd like to think it'd been some remnants of a desire to live.

That silly little dream where someone would open the cupboard door with a smile as they said that he was _normal_ , and not-

He'd just take the plot's of flowers he grew in the Dursley's garden, and just leave, never look back...

It was a beautiful dream.

There was also another time, back... maybe a year ago? It'd been one of the worse days. So incredibly tired, he'd hidden most of the utensils in the oversized pockets, including _one_ of the dinner knives, when Vernon walked in, intending to finish them tomorrow when he was preparing breakfast... but...

Just... thoughts that were there.

It... was complicated. Technically, it wasn't illegal, they'd found that out when going through one of the library newspapers. It'd been a complete coincidence, hoping to find something about his parent's in 1981, but they found out that what they'd been thinking had been illegal only three decades ago and...

And people were...

As a not quite rule, but much more than just a habit, Hadrian didn't _like_ people, even less when it came to _trusting_.

They just. Didn't. **_Think_**.

No, rather, they didn't think for _themselves_. It felt like talking to the bloody television half the time. Always the same reasons with the same ideas.

And they only think what the society wanted and expected them to think.

(Normal but not normal. Right and wrong.)

Not only children. Hadrian had also noticed this in adults, maybe even _more_ than children.

And then he'd started eavesdropping. People just... they didn't have a nice opinion on the thoughts that he never voiced. And it was so much easier to keep them quiet than to bring that attention to themselves.

Just. There was what the Dursley's said, and not one person looked further because they didn't bloody _think_.

So when Dursley just stood there, gazing down at him with a sinister gleam in his eyes as-

...

And Hadrian was tired. Just, so, so tired.

...

...

...

This _was_ a lovely garden, thought. Even half-collapsed, the house gave off a very cosey vibe.

Cosey and homey. A little bit like the house's he'd draw in his cupboard, small, but with his a room of his own, a kitchen, a library, a bathroom...

His eyes darted towards the wooden plate next to the door, eyes squinting as through the dark, rain, and terrible eyesight.

...

_Why did Godric's Hollow sound so familiar?_

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Azalea blinked drowsily, the wards humming gently as the world started to focus around them.

They squished the faint amount of irritation as they rolled on their bed.

Not so much because they lived alone as the fact that it wasn't even _four_ in the morning.

Even they, who could function with waking up at _six_ , drew the line there.

Granted, it had nothing to do with wanting to and everything to do that, without fail, Mrs Dursly _always_ walked down at seven past six. It'd been a simple matter of adaptation, which had lead to them to be a very unwilling member of the 'early risers'.

Thought, back to the issue at hand, there were very few people that had access to this location, less those that were permitted to pass through the wards. Well, they could, but the result was not a pretty one, and they doubted that someone could have completely sidestepped goblin made wards as if...

...wasn't it Yule? Who in Morgans name woke them up on-

Wait.

_Right. Okay._ They'd blame that on lack of sleep.

Letting out a groaned, they reached out for their dressing gown, yawning tiredly as they started to walk down the stairs.

_Adelheid._ Only that women would consider it acceptable to visit someone before there was even sunlight. On _Yule morning_ of all times.

Rubbing their eyes tiredly, they switched the kettle on, rummaging through the fridge as they wondered if they even had enough food. They could always just make do with the Turkey and stuffing, forget about leftovers and buy something tomorrow. The non-magical world was filled with workaholics, so they'd probably find somewhere open.

Either way.

Slamming the door open when the bell rang, they sent a withering glare towards Adelheid, a smirk on the tall, pale women's lips and so much amusement radiating through her.

_Why had they keyed this woman in to start with?_

"Azalee." A monotone voice greeted as something pulled them into a tight hug.

_Oh, right._

"Good morning, Heidi." Azalea murmured, returning the embrace as a soft smile grew on their features even if they _were_ mildly miffed with Adelheid.

"Why, hello there, Blühen, hope you don't mind the visit." The women greeted, a lazy smirk on the lips because they very much _knew_ Azalea minded.

"It's okay, Heidi's always welcomed here." They smiled sweetly.

"Oho? And what would you two youngsters get up to all al- Ouch!" Adelheid yelped, grabbing her shin in pain.

"Behave." Heidi sent a warning look towards her companion.

Sometimes, they wondered which of the two was the oldest.

Grabbing the back of Adelheid's collar with a soft breeze of magic in an action reminiscent of holding a kitten, she smiled softly to Azalea. "Frohe Weihnachten, Azalee."

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"Pass." Heidi huffed, holding Hedwig in her arms as her deck of cards floated in front of her.

_That bird gets far too spoiled._ Azalea thought idly, placing the three of spades.

Not that they'd have it any other way.

"-so I thought, 'Hey, might as well visit China!' and see how he's doing, you know? So I knock on the door- who's got the six of diamonds?" Adelheid muttered, glaring at them as she put the two of spades.

"Who knows." Azalea shrugged with a friendly smile.

"Right... So I find him, half-asleep, completely knocked out and his house half burnt down. Turns out he'd found this interesting spell that caused sleeping gas, only that the gas was produced by a very flammable flame." She continued ranting, shaking her head at the bewildering tale.

Not that it was a strange occurrence in the magical world. It was perhaps the largest problems with people that were raised in the non-magical world.

Magic was not logical.

There were patterns and rules, true, but you could _create_ energy which, according to a physicist, was something impossible. Which, in retrospect, made no sense. If you couldn't create energy then where did _they_ come from?

But anyway.

Magic was capable of **_anything_**. Thing is, there were lines that you _shouldn't_ cross.

So when people that were raised in the non-magical world, claimed that clearly, it was simply the purebloods that didn't understand something that they'd studied for _millennia_ , and that science was the answer, things got _difficult_. They got difficult _fast._

Heidi called another pass.

Azalea put down the six of diamonds.

Adelheid sent them a glare, putting down the five of diamonds with a pointed look.

"So we end up having to sleep in a hotel, visiting around the place instead of what used to be a lovely looking mansion." She continued while rolling her eyes. "Which, before I forget." They added, reaching for her bag as she pulled out a small package. "Sending you a book of exotic magic is good and all, but that kind of gets repetitive, you know?"

Azalea smiled, for all her antics could make them drive themselves up the wall, Adelheid could be surprisingly tactile when it mattered. Gently, they opened the small box-shaped package and gazed at what laid inside.

Their brain fizzled, a sudden stop as large 'ERROR' shaped words echoed in red throughout their brain.

"-there were other's, of course, but the only other one I could think that you might have liked was a simple crucifix. I wasn't sure where you stood with Christianity, so I chose a more... widespread choice."

"I... how... " Eyes still wide, the stared at the beautifully carved emerald earings, then at Adelheid, and back to the earrings...

"You don't mind piercing your ears, right? If you do, I can just swap it next time I pass through-" She continued chattering with an amused smirk.

"I-It's fine." They stuttered. "I-I mean, thank you, it's beautiful. But... are you sure it's okay to give me something like this? It must have cost-"

"Meh" She interrupting, shoulders moving into a shrug. "It was collecting dust, and I'm, you know, filthy rich." She wiggled her fingers, a Galleon emerging from nowhere as it floated above the back of her palm.

"Anyway, I found them in one of the older shops in Luoyang, hadn't been there in ages, and their enchanting is even better. I mean, the Chinese have always been good at enchanting, but they've started making some very beautiful ones in the past few centuries. Fairly certain it's why one's shaped Yin while the other is Yang, even though they seem physically identical."

The enchanting. No that the craftsmanship wasn't amazing, but she meant the actual enchanting. Which...

...honestly, that was amazing. The enchanting themselves would have been ten Christmas gift's themselves, with the earrings...

"Ah! W-What? Don't cry! Look, I-"

"Not crying!"

Azalea pulled her into a hug, laughing at her panicky expression.

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Adelheid hummed softly, adding another small braid on their hair as the sun slowly started to rise. Azalea smiled fondly as Heidi played with Hedwig.

"Have I ever said how much I love you hair?"

"I believe the first time we met, it was more something along the lines of being a nest to several creatures in some few colourful languages." She drawled in amusement. "Where did you even learn all these hairstyles anyway?"

"Oh, Adelaida's hair used to be a real nightmare." Azalea blinked. Heidi's was?

"Really?"

"Really. Used to be a complete mess, the thing is, when you're a vampire, you have a fair bit of time to study these things."

Well.

She wasn't _wrong_.

They still hadn't figured out how old Adelheid was. They knew Heidi had become a vampire somewhere during the Roman periods. Probably Imperial, but somehow, Azalea had felt it unpolite to ask, so they'd just left it there.

They did, however, sympathise with Heidi. As someone that'd been turned during the start of puberty, she was stuck in a rather confusing loop of contradictory mentalities of experience and biology, ergo her... somewhat distant personality.

"Which is why you knew which product's helped." They nodded, rather grateful for that.

Ironically, some of those products had been made by a member of the Potter family, Fleamont Potter. It'd been a nice tidbit to know.

Magic made little sense like that. They'd studied that in potions, that, in magical beings, hair was one of the most magically reactive ingredients because of how saturated it was in magic. Ergo, having lot's of magic equalled untidier hair.

They'd waited after class and asked Profesor Snape _why_ that was.

Turns out it's because of dead cells.

Not that it was something the Profesor deeply studied, and it wasn't only hair. Nails and skin also made potion ingredient's and... it did make sense.

Even in humans, they _were_ resistive to magic.

Not like trolls and giants, of course. But it was more than that of what a non-magical human had, which was why Obliviator's had to be careful with how they did they work since it required delicacy that the usual magical person didn't require.

It used to be traditional for magicians to grow out their hair, status of power and all. It had fallen out of practice during the two dark wars, leaving it somewhere in the known tradition while being one that only some of the older families practised.

But anyway, they were getting distracted.

That tended to happen when you barely got a wink of _sleep_.

"Yes, well, thank the Gods that we solved _that_." She smirked, conjuring a beautifully engraved mirror that floated in front of them.

A pair of emerald eyes stared back, the earing emphasising them, making them seem more overlarge than what they probably were. It was only now that Azalea realised they weren't _similar_ coloured, they were _identical_.

The braids in their black hair looked really pretty as well. Very time consuming, not something they would even begin to attempt with magic, but Azalea liked them. It made them look more mature, what, with their babyface, when everyone had started hitting puberty.

Okay, not _everyone_ , but magical humans tended to mature faster even if the average was more diverse.

They had no illusion they'd be in the latter diversity.

But they liked it. It made them appear more regal.

"Yeah." They agreed softly, smiling in the mirror.

"Azalea." Adelheid began, an uncharacteristic serious expression adorning her features. "Do you want to be a girl?"

For a moment, they stared, slowly blinking as they processed the question.

"I… I don't _think_ that I want to be a girl…" A small frown formed on their features as they turned they gaze down towards their coffee mug. "It's… how to explain it… I can't make up my mind?" _Yes because that makes_ ** _so_** _much sense._

They leaned onto the small table, focusing more on their chaotic mind than on the conversation.

Truthfully, they just liked to not think about it most of the time. It made life a lot easier.

"Sometimes, I think about it." Azalea finally admitted with a slow nod. "Mostly, I'm fine with…me, I guess me being me? And then, on some occasions, I'm _not_."

Yes, they realised that made absolutely no sense. No, they _did_ , but it was what it was. And right now, those thoughts were a complete mess of confusion.

"Sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?" They smiled apologetically.

"Well, that's fine as long as you okay with it." Adelheid finally hummed. Abruptly a smirk formed on her lips. "It helps that you cute."

Azalea rolled their eyes, jumping off their chair as they walking towards the kitchen in an attempt to hide a growing blush.

"So... why Azalea?"

"It's a family tradition." They responded easily.

Actually... now that they thought about it. They could probably-

"Hmm~. Well, as long as you're careful, I suppose it's fine." She hummed.

Right. They _still_ didn't know why Adelheid had taken interest in them to start with. Either way- "...there _is_ another reason I'm being careful." They admitted, offering her one of the cups as she purred her some tea.

"Oho?"

"Well," Azalea smiled. "Ever heard of the silly moniker, The Boy-Who-Lived?"

They hadn't been waiting for Adelheid to take a sip of her drink. Really.

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Hermione frowned, gently placing the joint camera present from Susan and Azalea onto the table, pondering to themselves as her parents prepared the meal in the kitchen.

The day they'd left on the Hogwart's Express, Hermione had hugged Azalea just before leaving the train. It wasn't something she did often, but they'd done it some few times since they'd started hanging out. Only...

Azalea had flinched.

Not the surprise jumping, but an actual flinch as they seemingly shrunk inwards. It lasted for a second, possible two before they'd straightened and acted as if it'd hadn't happened. She'd considered asking something but...

They hadn't exactly fought, but there'd been some arguments on... balancing between all of them.

Particularly when she offered to help with their homework. They hadn't quite been at the point of offended, but she knew it hadn't been that far off either. It ended with agreeing to double-check each other's homework, or sharing ideas after some time working on it.

So she kept it to herself. Driving herself mad as she tried to figure out an actual _why._

Because it _was_ strange. He'd been fine every other time she'd hugged him.

_Only.._. Her frown deepened, going through every time she'd initiated physical contact. It... it might be silly, but... had that been the first time she'd done so outside of his line of sight?

Frown now approaching a scowl, she considered what she knew about Azalea Blackwood.

At first, she thought he was like her. And they had their similarities, yes, but...

They weren't as similar as she thought.

She was intellectually faster. Not always, of course, but she was usually the quicker one to finish.

He had a good memory, but it wasn't anywhere near as good as hers.

But then there was magic and...

...it was breathtaking, the way he'd just gracefully move his wand, a gentle movement and the magic would just dance around him, a little like a director lead the music of an orchestra.

With Azalea, there didn't need to be a book to cast a spell, they just _did_.

Hermione shook her head. She was getting off-topic.

Shed noticed early on that he was _small_. As in incredibly small, barely reaching her collar bone even though she wasn't particularly tall herself. Actually... the only person of similar height was Davis... they also had a rather frail build even when wearing the bulky robes of their school uniform.

_Maybe... maybe I should ask mom and dad? They might know something that I'm not noticing._

Or maybe the troll had just left her paranoid.

Which...

She hadn't told her parents about _that_. For some reason, they'd never seen the letter from the school, and she wasn't sure they'd allow her to attend Hogwarts. So she... kept quit, she supposed.

More importantly, she needed some inquiries answered. And her parent's where the best place to get them.

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* * *

"Azalea! Mind if we take a seat at your lovely domain?" An overly cheerful voice asked from above.

They rolled their eyes, having long since become accustomed to this weirdness. "Make yourself at home." It's not like he'd do anything else. They raised an eyebrow at his companions, not so much because they were Slytherin than because he brought companions.

"Thank you." He grinned, pulling a seemingly random book from the shelf behind him. "That's Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis." He pointed to both girls at his left. "Both top of the year and, more importantly, _understand_ magic."

Oh...

Okay then.

That answered his unasked question. Blaise didn't have a high opinion of Britan, which, fair enough, they suppose.

They hadn't paid that much attention to the political situation in Britan until Blaise had sat them down and explained it.

Turns out, it's (of course) a lot more complicated than good and bad, which is the propaganda that is usually spread around.

The average person is under the impression that there were two... let's say sects, for this situation. Dark, which was the major sect, and Light, which was the minor sect.

It was completely wrong and twisted, of course.

See, the thing was, the 'Light' sect was more along the lines of muggle radicals. They weren't in complete agreement, but at the core, they wanted to change society's culture to match that of the non-magical world rather than the one it'd held for centuries.

Now, the 'Dark' sect was more complicated. There were the traditional, which were a much more 'Grey' area than actually 'Dark' one, and then there were the... er... monarchial, they supposed, which had most of the 'pureblood supremacist'.

That was without including the much smaller groups that kind of just floated around, kind of supporting one sect while occasionally another one.

It was all rather complicated, and that was before you added the whole Ministry of Magic into it.

The Ministry was in charge of the country, yes, but the Wizengamot was in charge of the country's _laws_. So it came down to a majority _united_ Wizengamot outranking the Ministry, only that it rarely _was_ untied, which meant that the Ministry was kind of in charge.

But then, the Wizengamot didn't trust the Ministry, either because they didn't want them involving themselves in family matters, or because they thought it was too influenced by an opposing faction, so it ended up with everyone expecting everyone to hide a dagger behind their back and rarely getting anything done.

The last time they'd had any degree of unity had been against Grindeward during the second dark war. Britan's blood civil war was when the Wizengamot had been most torn into different fraction's, and those cracks were still rather visible to this day.

Unfortunately, it wasn't only Britan that was... bad. Most of Europe was in the same situation. France and Germany were the main two exceptions they could think from the top of their head. Germany had been... purged after the war, and were only now returning to a level of stability, France, on the other hand, had been so torn from the war that they'd had to work together to stop their country from falling apart, that unity had more or less stayed to this day.

Then there was America, which had this silly myth that it was some type of utopia. It wasn't. It more or less mirrored Europe with how it was run. Maybe slightly better, since the Civil War had been... bad.

As for Asia, it was kind of slightly better while also being slightly worse. More emphasis on 'pureblood' while less emphasis on 'racism', so it created a greater social divide while also being slightly more effective with its legal situation.

No one talked about Australia. It was taboo, thought no magical lived there. They didn't know _why_ , but it had something to do with war having gone _very_ badly.

Anyway, they were rambling.

They knew Greengrass was one of the leading traditional, while Davis was more of the 'not so firm' members that went between the purists and the traditional.

Not that surprising that Blaise liked them then. Traditional were the most likely to still practice old magic.

"Blaise speaks rather highly of you." Greengrass stated with an impassive tone, eyes still firmly cast downwards as she worked on her homework. "And you're rather well known at the Slytherin table, if only because you're a Troll-Slayer at eleven." She added as an afterthought. "There wasn't much to find about you, Azalea Blackwood." Greengrass gazed upwards, piercing blue eyes meeting their own.

Azalea blinked, somewhat taken back from… that.

"Should I be flattered or worried that Slytherin knows me?" They asked slowly.

If you had no idea what was happening, then stall. That had kept them relatively alive during the Dursleys, good to know it was still applicable.

"...Maybe you won't be stabbed in the back after all." Greengrass nodded, returning to her studying as Azalea blinked.

"Okay, enough with that, Greengrass. This isn't Slytherin politics." Blaise cut in, an amused tone in his voice as she turned to glare at him.

_Slytherin politics?_ Azalea mouthed somewhat incredulously.

"We have to have fun somehow." He drawled, a taunting grin on his features. "Anyway, just thought I'd introduce you. Don't mind Greengrass, she's always like that, and David's..."

The girl in question gave a polite nod, not a word escaping her lips as she returned to her book leaving Blaise with an amused snort.

"So, my dear BFF, what marvellous wonders have you beautiful brain thought over our Yull holidays?" He asked with an overly sweet voice.

Blaise and Adelheid must never meet. Not when they have that identical expression.

Would it be mean to throw a book at him? Just once?

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* * *

Azalea hummed softly, legs dangling from the astronomy tower as they back leaned on the engraved pillar. They'd brought a blanket, of course, charms or not it _was_ still chilling.

Hedwig had long since graduated from a night owl, seemingly enjoying sleeping on their lap at any possible time.

Which... seeing how there were only two groups they sent any form of letters usually meant they slept the whole day.

Well, whatever. Hedwig was only some few years old, so she could worry about exercise when she was older.

A smile formed on Azaleas lips, hand gently brushing through their companion's feathers as they started at the sky.

It'd been just like tonight. The clear sea of constellations faintly illuminating the ground when Hedwigs had broken out of their egg. When Azalea had made their first friend.

Maybe it had something to do with magic? The beautiful night sky's that were so lacking in light pollution, so really seen in non-magical populated locations.

There was something about lying on a tower, staring at the night sky, watching star's that were never visible at private drive.

Something they'd always tried to see when travelling. And this was almost as good as the night sky of the canary islands.

They'd travelled the world before, visiting the major locations through Europe and Asia. And, maybe Africa this time?

They'd extended letters, over Christmas, and maybe they'd do the same in summer. They... didn't want to assume anything, but...

Were they friends? Azalea liked to think so, but they'd rather not assume anything and then put their foot into their mouth.

But then... Susan, Hermione, Blaise...

Maybe they were friends.

Yeah.

And, maybe, they were _happy_ at that thought.

Just a little bit.

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* * *

**Blegh.**

**Just, Blegh.**

**Sorry. I couldn't get this to the standard I wanted it, but I realised It just started reading through it, nodding, and leaving it there. So I just brute forced it into here. So Blegh.**

**Huh... just realised Philosopher stone is my least favourite of the books... It'll pick up the pace in the next chapter or two, so I'm sorry if this one wasn't something you enjoyed.**

**That being said, I felt almost all of this was necessary (with the possible exception of the last section, which was more because I didn't want to end it with the awkwardness of Blaise bringing Daphne and Tracy in).**

**Anyway. Beta testers! Still hoping someone will explain this, please!**

**And, I think that's everything... maybe? I'll just write it in the next chapter if not...**

**Thoughts? Did you enjoy it?  
Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao!**

**~ Sapphire and Emeralds**


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